


What's in a Name?

by RandomReader13



Category: Batman - All Media Types
Genre: Batfamily (DCU), Bruce Wayne is a Good Parent, Don't think about it too hard, Family Fluff, Fluff, Fluff and Humor, Gen, Hijinks & Shenanigans, Humor, Rated T for Trashmouth, he's also a very Exasperated parent, takes place in a nebulous timeline where only things I need to happen happen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-14
Updated: 2020-07-14
Packaged: 2021-03-04 20:21:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,253
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25262251
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RandomReader13/pseuds/RandomReader13
Summary: The identities of the Batfam are a tightly-held secret. The Batkids have had enough. They're going to force Bruce to reveal their identities or die trying.
Relationships: Bruce Wayne & His Kids
Comments: 125
Kudos: 1118





	What's in a Name?

**Author's Note:**

> Based on this [Tumblr post](https://batkidsaremadkids.tumblr.com/post/623061058682306560/imagine-the-justice-league-doesnt-know-the)

Things had officially gotten out of hand. All of them agreed, and if that didn’t show how serious the situation was, Tim didn’t know what did. All of the Wayne kids were crowded in the third living room, the little one tucked behind the library. Tim had Jason’s elbow in his ribs and a leg dangling over Cass’ shoulder where she leaned against the couch.

“So we all agree,” Dick said, standing in the middle of the rug with a serious expression. “Bruce is officially out of control.”

A round of nods went around the circle. “The situation is intolerable,” Damian said from his position perched on the arm of the room’s single armchair.

“And he only has like one friend,” Jason pointed out.

“You’re one to talk,” Tim scoffed, shoving Jason’s elbow away. He winced when it was shoved back twice as hard.

Damian hissed at Jason but didn’t retaliate further, instead looking back at Dick. “What is the plan, Grayson? How will we rectify this situation?”

Dick folded his hands together, tapping them against his lips. “There’s only one thing we _can_ do. Bruce is never going to just tell them his identity, or let us tell them ours.” He put his hands on his hips. “We have to force his hand.”

“How?” Cass asked, tilting her head to one side.

“Bruce had to ‘come clean’ about funding the Justice League after Hush released the R&D budget,” Dick said, pacing back and forth, hands now clasped behind his back like a general addressing his troops. “They’re having a meeting to discuss modifications now that Batman doesn’t have to be an intermediary.”

“That’s gonna be interesting,” Jason sniggered. “Oliver hates Brucie.”

“Well, our job is to make it even _more_ interesting,” Dick said. “So interesting that Bruce has no choice but to step in and reveal his identity.”

“We’re all gonna be grounded for life,” Tim said. “You realize that, right? Even if it doesn’t work.”

“I’m _not_ hiding from my friends anymore,” Dick said. “I refuse. You guys with me? We’re going to need everyone on board to make this possible.”

“Hell yes,” Jason said immediately. Cass nodded once, sharply, Damian a second behind her. They all looked at Tim.

He sighed. “I’ll text Steph.”

* * *

Bruce straightened his cuffs as he stood in the foyer of the manor. Superman would be arriving any minute to escort him to the Watchtower. Everything needed to go perfectly today; this was one of the most dangerous things he could do to his secret identity and there could be no slip-ups. He had already swapped out the tiny bat cufflinks that had been left on his dresser for normal ones -- while he appreciated the humor and usually enjoyed seeing how far he could push a reference without being caught (there was a reason his favorite car was a Murciélago), he was going into a meeting with some very smart people and he really couldn’t risk it. It was going to be hard enough to stay in his Bruce Wayne persona, he didn’t need anything pushing him out of it. That was why he had sent the kids up a few hours ago. They didn’t want any more connections being drawn, it was already bad enough that they knew they were from the same city.

A whoosh of air, the familiar ear-popping sensation that came from standing near something going mach speeds, and the doorbell rang.

“Superman, Master Bruce,” Alfred said, opening the door.

“Thank you Alfred,” Bruce said, stepping forward to greet his guest. Bruce Wayne had never met Superman before, it was appropriate to seem a little star-struck. But not too much, he worked with Batman after all.

* * *

The meeting was going well so far, they had made it past introductions and on to the important business without a hitch. Green Arrow had only made two comments about Bruce’s ability to handle these kinds of talks without someone who actually knew what they were doing. Bruce laughed it off, acknowledged that Lucius Fox was an integral part of his company, and slipped in a reminder that he was no longer his younger self -- the Brucie persona had gotten old fast, and it had been a welcome relief to scale it back as he got older and adopted more kids. The press still loved to hark on his younger exploits, but Bruce Wayne had shifted from an air-headed playboy to a father who was perhaps a bit eccentric and occasionally went jet-setting but clearly adored his kids.

Everything was going so well, in fact, that Bruce was hardly surprised when several alerts appeared in rapid succession over the state-of-the-art holographic screens they were working on, accompanied with appropriately-loud blaring.

“Something just exploded in training room 5,” Cyborg reported.

“Open the cameras,” Wonder Woman said, voice hard. Bruce forced his automatic focus to shift into open concern. Bruce Wayne would definitely be alarmed if he was on an exploding space station.

Cyborg nodded and the screens shifted from budget graphs and brainstorming lists to a video feed. Bruce’s blood pressure skyrocketed.

“Red Hood,” Superman said. “What are you doing?”

Jason turned to the camera and grinned. “Heya, Supes. Just doin’ some target practice.” He patted the bazooka slung over his shoulder.

“We are in space!” Green Arrow yelled. “If you puncture the hull-”

“Oh please,” Jason cut him off. “Batman designed this thing, a little bazooka’s not gonna hurt it.” He turned back to the wall of targets, a blackened crater right in the middle, and raised the bazooka.

“Red Hood, I order you to stop,” Wonder Woman said.

Jason paused, turning back to the screen. “Well, see, you’re not my mentor and I’m not technically part of the League,” he said. A slow smirk slid across his face and he locked eyes with Bruce. “Shame Batman isn’t here, huh?”

Bruce twitched.

* * *

“Shit shit shit,” Jason panted, boots squeaking as he careened around a corner, slamming his palm against the reader on the wall. It slid closed behind him and he sagged down onto the floor. He exhaled slowly and reached up to his comm. “I’m stuck in B’s room,” he said.

“What?” Dick asked

“I’m stuck. They sent fucking Superman after me.”

“...and he didn’t catch you?”

Jason coughed a little, still trying to get his breath back. “He was more concerned with the bazooka I think.”

“Yeah, he’s outside B’s door,” Tim cut in.

“ _Shit_.”

“Just chill out, Jay. He’ll probably go back to the meeting soon. Just sit tight, you’re done anyway.”

“Yeah, sure. Just chill out.” Jason let the back of his head hit the door with a thunk, grateful for Bruce’s paranoia that meant the whole room was soundproofed and covered in a thin layer of lead. “Fucking Superman.”

Dick rolled his eyes and returned his attention to the small group of kids and teens in front of him. “Okay, everyone!” he said cheerfully. “Feeling good?”

“No,” Cassie grunted, trying to untangle herself from the long silk ribbon dangling from the ceiling.

“I think I’m getting this!” Bart cried, carefully shifting his left leg. He yelped as his foot slipped and he dropped to the ground with a thud.

Dick pinched the bridge of his nose. “Bart, what did I say about changing position?”

“To make sure I know how first so I don’t fall,” Bart mumbled, still face down on the floor.

Dick nodded, quickly twisting the silk around his leg to prep his descent to the ground. The door to the training room slid open.

Wonder Woman blinked at them. They all blinked back. “Nightwing? What are you doing?” she asked.

Dick beamed and released the end of his silk, sending himself spinning down the length of the silk onto the floor. “Wonder Woman, how lovely of you to pop in!” Dick could see Bruce standing behind Diana, and he let his gaze slide purposefully over to him. “How is our guest enjoying his tour?”

“The facilities you have here are very impressive,” Bruce said. “I am glad to see my money is being put to good use.” His eyes narrowed the smallest amount. Dick doubted anyone outside of their family would notice, but he had spent years reading Bruce’ microexpressions. “I could do without the bazooka scare, though.”

“Yeah, Hood can be a bit of a wild card.” Dick chuckled, rubbing the back of his neck. Bruce’s eyes narrowed a bit more

“What are you doing in here, Nightwing?” Diana asked again.

Dick brightened. “Teaching the kiddos how to work with aerial silks! Batman told me to.” Out of the corner of his eye he could see Bruce’s eyebrow scrunch just slightly. Direct hit.

“...I see.” Diana clearly did not see, which was fair, seeing how Dick had made it up.

Dick nodded eagerly. “Bart had a bit of an accident-” Bart waved a hand before hauling himself back up his silk, “but we’re not going above twenty feet, they’ll be fine.”

Someone made a strangled noise at ‘twenty feet’, but the kids Dick was working with had powers. They’d be fine. Diana evidently agreed with him, because she simply asked, “Did Batman explain his reasoning?”

“Nope.” Dick scratched his chin thoughtfully. “I’m sure he has his reasons though, he’s a big fan of the sport. Not too shabby at it either.”

Oliver choked and Dick resolutely ignored Bruce’s gaze boring a hole in his neck. “It’s easier for me, of course,” he said, reaching out and wrapping his hand back around his silk. “A lot of bulk isn’t helpful in this area.”

Kon cursed loudly and Dick craned his neck around to see the teenager hovering midair and pulling uselessly at no less than three different silks he had managed to get caught in. Dick looked at the Leaguers and gestured helplessly. “You see my point. Anyway, feel free to ask Batman about it when he gets back.”

Diana nodded uncertainly. “Very well. We will leave you to your...training.”

“Thanks!” Dick waved and sprung back into the silks to help untangle Kon. Once he was sure the group was gone, he tapped his comm. “They’re headed your way, guys,” he said.

“Roger that,” Steph replied cheerfully. “The Demon Brat is raring to go.”

Dick muted his comm as Damian started yelling about the nickname. “Let’s get you down,” he told Kon. “Red Robin’s gonna need your guys’ help in a minute.”

* * *

It was taking a good amount of self control for Bruce to keep his mouth shut, especially since Oliver kept chuckling to himself several minutes after they had left Dick behind. He didn’t know what his children thought they were doing, but they would regret it, whatever it was. The back caves hadn’t been cleaned in a while and the bat guano was really starting to pile up.

“And here we have the kitchens,” Wonder Woman said.

Bruce hummed, pretending to examine the kitchen. Stephanie and Cass were sitting at the table in the center of the room.

“Okay, okay, how about this,” Steph was saying, barely managing to stifle a laugh. “Superman, Green Arrow, aaaaand Aquaman.”

Cass had tugged her mask up just over her nose and she crunched thoughtfully on a chip. “Fuck Aquaman, marry Superman, and,” her head tilted to the side, “kill Green Arrow.”

Bruce could feel his face turning red, and he couldn’t even ground himself in Batman because he wasn’t in costume. Superman, who had finally joined them after reporting Hood stuck in Batman’s quarters, made a high-pitched sound, like air coming out of a balloon. Green Arrow edged a little further behind Wonder Woman. Aquaman was on the other side of the group, but a subtle glance showed that he looked as uncomfortable as Bruce felt.

Stephanie laughed. “Good ones.”

Cass took another chip and reached a hand to her belt. She tugged out a throwing knife and, with one quick twist of her shoulder, sent it hurtling towards the wall. Bruce had a minor heart attack as the knife embedded itself next to Damian’s head.

“You will have to try harder than that to catch me off guard, Black Bat!” Damian declared, haughty despite the blindfold that covered most of his face.

“What are you doing?!” Bruce demanded, only barely managing to shift the Batman growl into the kind of question a civilian would ask while seeing knives being thrown at a child.

“He needs the practice,” Stephanie said. “Batman said we could.”

It was on the tip of his tongue that he had absolutely _not_ said that, but he managed to choke it down.

Cass threw another knife and turned back to Stephanie. “Wonder Woman, Black Canary, Flash.”

“Ooh,” Steph said, picking up a can of tuna off of a small mound next to her elbow and chucking it at Damian. There was a thud and a small curse. “A knife didn’t get you but a tuna can did?” she called without looking back.

“Silence, fatgirl!”

“Definitely kill Flash,” she said, tapping her chin with a juice box as she pondered over her other two options for an uncomfortably long time. “Fuck Black Canary, marry Wonder Woman,” she finally decided. She looked straight at the group still standing in the doorway, the white-out lenses in her mask retracted, and winked at the two women in question.

Joker hadn’t managed to drive Bruce to breaking his one rule, but his children would.

* * *

They were finally nearing the end of the meeting. Soon Superman would return Bruce to Gotham, where he could spend the hours before his kids arrived determining exactly how to punish them for their latest series of stunts. The other members of the League seemed just as eager to wrap the meeting up as he was, and they all reconvened in the meeting room

“I apologize for the...complications,” Superman said. “Batman is currently away on business and he is the only one that can really wrangle the Gotham crowd. We’ll be sure he hears about it.”

“I understand,” Bruce said, forcing his voice to come out light around a smile. “I have kids, I know how young people can be.”

“Yes, well, now that you have seen the facilities, what are your thoughts going forward?”

Bruce stood up and took the controller to the computer from Superman with a nod. “Right, so I think we can rule out numbers 5 and 8,” he said, pulling up their brainstorming list. “It seems that the most critical area to focus on is he-” His voice died as the screen disappeared and all the lights in the room flickered, before they came back on, along with a notification that the backup generators were in use.

“What the hell was that?” Flash demanded, jumping to his feet.

“Is it Hood again?” Black Canary asked.

Superman shook his head. “I’ve been listening for him, no one’s left Batman’s quarters.”

Aquaman sighed. “I suppose we need to go see what is going on, as we can’t pull the camera feed up while the Watchtower is running on the generators.”

“Perhaps you should stay here, Mr. Wayne,” Wonder Woman said as he stood with everyone else.

“I’d rather come along if you don’t mind,” he said. There was no way in hell he was staying in the conference room while a potential threat was onboard. “It seems to me that I would be safer among your company than by myself.”

“Very well,” she said.

Cyborg led them to the source of the drain, which was in the main hall. The zeta tubes seemed like the most likely culprit; it could mean that several unauthorized people were entering, or someone was trying to destabilize the zetas to the point that they damaged the Watchtower itself.

Or, he realized as he entered the hall, it could be another one of his kids causing trouble.

Tim was sitting cross legged on the floor of the main hall, along with Superboy, Wondergirl, and Impulse. They all had holographic controllers in their hands -- in another circumstance Bruce would be asking how Tim had configured the program to allow for such an interface, but at the moment he was too busy trying to keep his breathing calm to think about that. A video game was being projected across the entire height and width of the wall. The four culprits looked up. “Oh, hey guys,” Tim said, giving a little wave.

“Red Robin, what do you think you’re doing?” Superman asked, sounding tired.

“Setting up the most badass gaming system in the world,” Tim said cheerfully.

“Out of this world too,” Impulse added. “Since we’re in space and all.” Tim nodded.

Superman pinched the bridge of his nose. “Red Robin, you’re draining the power from the Watchtower. We’re currently on the backup generators.”

“Oh.” Tim looked at the very large, very bright screen in front of him, then back at Superman. “Well, I’ve kinda already set up the system soooo….” Every member of the League stared at him. He stared back. Bruce knew that look; that was the same look Tim got when he would stay up for three days straight because he needed to solve a case or finish a level. “We’re just gonna finish this level, okay?” Tim said, turning back to the screen and resuming it. The four teens were immediately engaged.

“Red Robin, return power to the Watchtower,” Superman said sternly.

“Mm, no offense Superman, but you’re not Batman,” Tim said. He looked up, straight at Bruce. A small smirk wormed its way over his face. Bruce realized with stunning clarity that this had been all staged, all planned. Not just his children being disasters individually, but his children actively working together to ruin this carefully-planned meeting. Tim turned back to his game, and Bruce knew what was going to come out before he opened his mouth, saying flippantly, “Shame Batman isn’t here, huh?”

* * *

Tim grinned at the growl that followed his cheeky statement. He raised his hand to his comm, watching Bruce from the corner of his eye. Yep, that was the batglare. He tapped the comm twice, their agreed-upon signal that meant mission accomplished. Jason had thrown the stakes impossibly high -- how do you top a bazooka?? -- but Tim had done it! And all it had taken was putting them all in potentially-catastrophic danger (he had checked all the safety precautions before doing anything _obviously_ , he wasn’t _stupid,_ but most people wouldn’t consider their absurd amount of failsafes when they get an alert that says their space station is losing power). Take that Jason!

“Timothy. Jackson. Drake. Wayne.”

Tim stiffened. It was now occurring to him, far too late, that being the last nail in the coffin meant that he was also the one directly in the path of a very, very pissed off Batman.

“It was Dick’s idea!” he squeaked before he was being grabbed by the ear and hauled to his feet.

“Return power to the Watchtower. _Now_.”

Tim scrabbled for his wrist computer, disabling the system with two quick taps and returning the systems to normal. The giant video game screen disappeared.

“Comm.”

Tim yanked his comm out of his ear and dropped it in Bruce’s waiting palm. Bruce popped it into his own ear.

The other kids were currently celebrating their success with cheering and high-fives. They all froze when Batman’s voice came over their comms. “If you are not all in my quarters in thirty seconds _you will regret it_."

They stared at each other. “ _Shit_.”


End file.
